


Cake or death -- or It's the thought that counts

by DorianWilde



Series: Janto deleted scenes [5]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Cake, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Romance, janto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 19:39:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorianWilde/pseuds/DorianWilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Gwen's birthday, Jack and Ianto decides to surprise her by making a cake. Set after Season 2. Written for Caroline, since it's her birthday and all. Janto fluff/humour</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cake or death -- or It's the thought that counts

**Cake or death -- or It's the thought that counts**

 

 **Pairing:** Jack/Ianto

 **Genre:** Humour/Fluff

 **Words:** ~1300

 

 **Summary:** It's Gwen's birthday, Jack and Ianto decides to surprise her by making a cake. Set after Season 2. Written for Caroline, since it's her birthday and all.

 

 

“Did you bring the list?” Ianto asked. It irked him Jack had made the list, refusing to let him do it.

  
“Yep.” Jack held it out to him.

 

“Flour, sugar, cream cheese, cacao...” he trailed off, words becoming un-hearable mutterings. “Looks like you got it all down.” Ianto gave him a mock-surprised look.

 

“Great! Let's do this,” Jack said excitedly, jogging down the aisle pushing his cart in front of him.

 

“Right,” Ianto breathed, walking after him.

 

-'-'-

 

“Jack, what are you doing?” Ianto crossed his arms, looking at his lover in amusement.

 

“Well, I wasn't sure which one to pick-” Jack confessed, gesturing towards the ten different kinds of sprinkles in the cart.  
  


“So you picked them all?” Ianto said, trying to keep a straight face.

 

“Too much?” Jack asked sheepishly.

 

“It's... sweet,” Ianto assured him, lips twitching. “Let's go with these two,” he decided, keeping the multicoloured one and the one with the tiny yellow stars. “That's everything off the list,” he said, crossing out 'lots of sprinkles'. In his peripheral vision she saw Jack sneak down a bottle of chocolate sauce. He raised an eyebrow.

 

“For later,” Jack grinned, pecking his cheek.

 

-'-'-

 

After carefully placing all the ingredients in order of usage on Jack's kitchen counter, Ianto re-read the recipe just in case he'd missed something. Jack handed him a red apron, already wearing a blue one himself.

 

“Very domestic,” he commented. Jack merely shrugged, flashing him a smile. “Mix the eggs with the sugar,” Ianto instructed. “Jack, the contents of the eggs, not the shells.”

 

“Oh.” Jack looked taken aback. “I thought, you know. For added crunchiness?” he suggested.

 

“No,” Ianto said firmly. In all honesty, he'd never baked in his entire life. He'd told Jack as much when the other had asked him for help to make Gwen a birthday cake. They'd all been stressed out recently, at the same time dealing with the grief after Owen and Tosh, so celebrating Gwen's birthday properly had seemed like a great idea. They'd assumed they'd be able to figure out how to make a cake together. They were _Torchwood_ for god's sake. How hard could it be?

 

Ianto frowned at the recipe. “You're supposed to use a mixer, not- what is that?”

 

“Breadstick.” Jack took a bite from it, keeping it in his mouth like a cigarette. “Want some?”

 

Ianto shook his head no. “Do you _have_ a mixer?” he asked suddenly.

 

“Of course,” Jack insisted. “It's, um...” His face fell. “Shit.”

 

“Back to the store.”

 

-'-'-

 

“I think we should have melted the butter first.” Jack looked at the clumpy mess.

 

“...yeah. Can't you just keep mixing it?” Ianto suggested, scratching the back of his head.

 

-'-'-

 

“It's a bit runny, isn't it?” Jack inspected the batter, swirling it around the bowl with a spoon. “Unless you count the margarine clumps.”

 

“Did you add the flour when I told you to?” Ianto asked, already knowing the answer.

 

“Ooh.”

 

-'-'-

 

“You got some batter there,” Jack informed him, gesturing vaguely.

 

“Where?” Ianto looked down at himself, frowning.

 

“Right there,” Jack insisted, kissing him wetly on the cheek. “I think I got most of it. Hang on a sec.”

 

“Very thoughtful of you, sir,” Ianto drawled as Jack continued pressing kisses on his face, moving down to his neck.

 

“Don't mention it,” came the muffled reply.

 

-'-'-

 

“Sugar?” Ianto asked.

 

“Check.”

 

“Eggs?”

 

“Check?”

 

“Flour, baking powder, vanilla sugar?”

 

“Check check check.”

 

“Butter and milk?”

 

“Check and check!” Jack beamed excitedly. “Let's put it in the oven!”

 

“Wait!” Ianto grabbed his arm. “We need to pour it into a pan first.”

 

“A pan. Right.” Jack gave him a I'm-cute-don't-get-mad-look.

 

-'-'-

 

“You think Rhys'll make a cake for her as well?” Jack asked as he paid for the pan.

 

“God I hope so.”

 

-'-'-

 

“Jack, it's going to be in there for forty minutes,” Ianto told him, setting the timer on his cell.

 

“So?” Jack turned questioningly towards him.

 

“So, are you going to sit in front of the oven for forty minutes?” Ianto clarified.

 

“...you're welcome to join me.”

 

“I'll pass.”

 

 

**Forty three minutes later**

 

“Look at this masterpiece!” Jack proclaimed after Ianto had carefully overturned the pan.

 

“It's a bit burnt,” he said sceptically.

 

“Crunchy, Ianto, crunchy,” Jack insisted. “Let's decorate it!” he said excitedly, reaching for the sprinkles.

 

“It has to cool down first,” Ianto told him, plucking the packages from his hands. “Or the frosting will melt.”

 

“Oh.” Jack looked like christmas had been cancelled.

 

“I'm sure we can find something to occupy our time with until then,” Ianto told him. “If... you're interested I've still got that bottle of chocolate sauce. Think about it. Lots of things you can do with chocolate sauce.”

 

“Oh. Yeah!” Jack grinned. “I could think of a few.” He stepped closer.

 

“There's quite a list.”

 

-'-'-

 

“Let me do it,” Ianto insisted.

 

“It'll be fine,” Jack assured him, scraping half of the chocolate frosting onto the cake. “See,” he said as he carefully began spreading it.

 

“...you're supposed to do the filling first.

 

“I knew that. Shit.”

 

-'-'-

 

“Why do we make everything into a competition?” Ianto asked rhetorically.

 

“It's fun,” Jack snickered. They looked at the cake. It had so much sprinkles on it you couldn't see the frosting.

 

“The stars are more visible,” Ianto informed him smugly. “Looks like I win.”

 

“Rematch!” Jack demanded.

 

“Absolutely not. Besides, we're out of sprinkles.”

 

-'-'-

 

“-happy birthday to youuu!” they chorused, setting the cake down in front of Gwen.

 

“Thank you,” Gwen grinned, getting up to hug them both. “Wow, that's a lot of sprinkles.”

  
“We made it from scratch,” Jack informed her proudly, putting an arm around Ianto. Ianto promptly blushed, still not used to Jack being affectionate in public. Even if 'the public' in this case consisted of Gwen.

 

“Wow,” she said. “I'm impressed,” she smiled.

 

“It's harder than it seems,” Ianto informed her, handing out plates. “It probably contains traces of eggshells,” he added.

 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed unabashed. “Try it!” Gwen cut a generous piece each, serving the others.

 

“Here goes nothing,” Ianto breathed as they each took a bite.

 

“Oh my god,” Gwen giggled.

 

“Sweet holy mother,” Jack choked out.

 

“I refuse to eat this,” Ianto announced, pushing his plate away. They were silent for a few moments, chewing, until, as if on cue, they all begun laughing hysterically.

 

“It, it looked delicious though,” Gwen assured them, gasping for breath.

 

“Really builds up the strength in your jaw,” Ianto supplied, discreetly spitting out his piece in a napkin.

 

“It was made with lots of love,” Jack said, trying, and failing, to look serious.

 

“Definitely,” Ianto agreed. “And it's the thought that counts,” he added, taking a big swallow of coffee, trying to get the taste out.

 

“Hello!” Rhys called as the invisible elevator descended. “Anyone want cake?”

 

“I love that man,” Jack said, Gwen rolling her eyes.

 

“Sounds lovely,” she called, shooting her husband a big smile.

 

Ianto scraped the contents of their plates back onto his and Jack's cake, clearing the table to make room for whatever cake Rhys had brought. He paused on his way to the bin. “Should we keep this? In case we need to torture someone in the future?” he asked.

 

“Or threaten them,” Gwen giggled.

 

“Do as we say or eat the _Cake of death!”_ Jack said dramatically, making the others crack up again.

 

“What's goin' on?” Rhys asked, looking between them.

 

“Nothing, love,” Gwen assured him, saving Jack's and Ianto's pride. “That looks delicious.”


End file.
